174th Hunger Games SYOT (CLOSED)
by Illuminated Blackness
Summary: One century has passed since the events of the first Hunger Games, and there was no rebellion. Wouldn't things end up differently? They did, and the Hunger Games still goes on. 24 citizens of Panem are about to face inevitable fates, and this is their story.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

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**174th Hunger Games SYOT: By Illuminated Blackness**

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**Introduction**

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Many people think they know how the Hunger Games ended up. One assumes that Katniss and Peeta won, which led to a rebellion. Therefore, the inhumane games were terminated. However, that is inaccurate. It was more like a rumor created by radical optimists, right after the Games were over. These optimists supported the star-crossed lovers, so they wrote documents describing their false dream.

Instead, Cato, the aggressive, masculine, and brawny tribute from District Two was fortunate enough to win. One may think that every single element of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games was a complete and utter lie, but the only variable that changed was the final battle at the Cornucopia. When the three remaining tributes were fighting the wolf-like mutts, Cato overpowered the District Twelve teenagers.

When this boy won, he showed zero sign of humility. While many of the victors fell into a deep depression and became manic, like Haymitch Abernathy, Cato was on the opposite side of the spectrum. His outlook was an I-will-dominate one, which took its toll on many people, events, and the society. This led to the victor embracing his support for the Hunger Games and supporting everything President Snow did. Therefore, no one was concerned with how things were going, so the Quarter Quell happened the next year, which involved young relatives of former victors compete.

One month before the eightieth Hunger Games, President Snow died for unknown reasons. He was all alone in his room, and when an assistant came to check on him in the morning, he didn't move a muscle. Although a minority of Snow's assistants and other workers for the government wanted an autopsy done, the majority rejected it. To them, their former leader was so delicate and important, so they wouldn't let anyone touch him.

"More like paranoia."

When a civilian from District Three announced those three significant words on a podium in the center of the district, they were automatically assassinated by Peacekeepers. From then on, every single citizen of Panem remained quiet and kept their opinions in their head. To add to the terror in the nation, the new leader, President Hughes, enforced even more rules and was ten times stricter than his predecessor

A century after Cato won the Hunger Games, things hadn't radically changed in Panem. Totalitarianism still occurred, and the inhumane leaders remained. At the time, Panem's new president was Maximilian Childress, who was responsible for over twelve million deaths, famine, and torture in a duration of five years. One-hundred-fifteen of them were tributes in the Hunger Games who didn't make it out alive. That's only a fraction, though.

The one-hundred-seventy-fourth Games is coming up in a very short amount of time. A new group of tributes will fight to the death, and only one will make it out alive. However, no one has the slightest clue who these teenagers will be...

It is up to you, the reader, to create the tributes. Without you, there won't be a Hunger Games. Pick up your pens, start generating some ideas, and submit your own tribute!

May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!

- Illuminated Blackness

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**How was the re-write of Chapter One? By the way, the tributes list and submission form are on my profile. :)**


	2. District One Reaping

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

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**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

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**District One Reaping**

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_Kiwi Godin, the District One escort, walks onto the stage. One could see her from a mile away, given her vibrant and exotic looks. Her matching lime-green hair and dress are a dead giveaway. After her enthusiastic speech about the Hunger Games, she puts her hand in the bowl and is about to read the name of the female that will be competing in the 174th Hunger Games..._

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**Luna POV**

When I open my eyes, the first thing I look at is the sunlight pouring through my bedroom window. This makes me smile, which doesn't happen very frequently. I'm a pretty serious person, and I always try my hardest. Because of this, a lot of people look up to me and comment on my abilities. There's a saying, that good things always happen to those who wait, but I don't need to wait. My parents are wealthy enough, so I can get anything I want. I live in District One, which is known for its luxury. It shocks me that a person would want to be in another place more than here. The only truly amazing location I could think of on the top of my head, minus my home district, is the Capitol. Hopefully, I'll get to visit it sometime soon.

My sister Daisy did, last year, for the Hunger Games. She was thirteen, and clearly didn't listen to any of my tips. We watched her on television from the chariots to the arena, but all I could do was keep a clenched fist. While my parents cheered her on and were nervous when it looked like she wouldn't make it, I just thought about how idiotic she was being. I still don't know what was going through her small brain, if she even had one, when she volunteered at the reaping, but I hope she wasn't thinking straight. No one could be that stupid-going to fight to the death with no skill. Frankly, I wasn't surprised at all when District Four's Arlo Robin came back in one piece and was looked upon.

Then, I remember that today's Reaping Day. When I look in the mirror, I smile from ear to ear, emphasizing my best looks. My blue eyes are like pieces of the sky, and my blonde hair cascades down my back without any tangles. Wouldn't a country enjoy someone like me? If they didn't, they needed to get major help. I walk over to my bathroom, which is part of my bedroom, and turn on the water. I make it moderate, but leaning a little more to the cold side than warm. After I enter the shower, I realize how relieving it is after being asleep for hours.

I rub my eyes and stretch my limbs to be fully energized. Grabbing the shampoo, I close my eyes and squirt the substance on my hair. I lather it all around, and I rinse it off. Then, I get the soap and put it on my body. When I finish grooming, I put on my silk bathrobe and step out of the bathroom. I open my gigantic closet and look for my reaping outfit.

Frowning, I shout, "I CAN'T FIND THE OUTFIT WE GOT YESTERDAY FOR REAPING DAY!"

"I'm coming!" Nina responds. She's our personal servant, I don't really look up to her. I don't know what her life was like before coming to work for us, but I figure that she was in poverty. To be honest, I truly hate her. Nina doesn't have any class, which bothers me. In Panem, anyone that's not from the Capitol, and Districts One, Two, and Four is a useless urchin. No wonder all of those bastards lose. They can't even afford a Training Academy, so they get squashed like bugs. Nina opens my door, and I get annoyed with her for not knocking.

"Can't you remember anything?"

"I'm, I'm, s-s-sss-sorr-sorry." I roll my eyes and make it obvious, in the hope that she can actually remember something. "You need help?"

"Go find my reaping outfit, now!" She runs away, and I chuckle. It's pretty ironic, a woman being scared of someone half their age. Although it's hilarious, I also think of it as a power tactic, knowing that I can control anybody. Time passes by, and Nina still hasn't found my outfit. I drum my fingers on my desk, which consists of makeup, mirrors, some pens and paper, and valuable pictures. As I look at a picture of my old friend Maya and I, there's a bang at my door.

When I open it, I come face to face with my puppy Twinkle. She barks, and I notice she's running toward something. I follow her, and when I finally see her not moving, there's my reaping outfit, right below her body. Pulling the clothes from underneath, I chastise her for causing them to be all wrinkled and dirty.

"NINA!" I shout, "IRON MY CLOTHES! I FOUND THEM BECAUSE-"

"Okay," she responds as calmly as possible and quickly runs upstairs. She grabs my reaping outfit from my hands and gets to work. I mentally groan, as I do every single day. I wish my parents would fire that bitch. They can afford everything, even this mansion, but why can't they get rid of that Nina?

When she's finally done, I try it on for the twentieth time in the past two days. I'm so excited for the reaping, and I want everything to be perfect. Even though Daisy died, I can redeem the Winners family name. Yes, that's actually my last name. As I admire myself in the mirror, the only thought I can think is, _That's what I am. A winner._

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I make my way through the crowd of teenagers, wearing a white dress with a belt and contrasting with black shoes. To show my superiority, I stick up my nose and glare at anybody who seems to want to fight me. The only open spot nearby is next to this girl at the Training Academy, or simply the Academy, Marcella Driscoll. She's really introverted and quiet, and I wouldn't be friends her if my life depended on it. I act as if she isn't there, but I can't help but look at her bouncing up and down. There's something about her that reminds me of Daisy.

"Would you stop that and quit disturbing the peace?" I snap. She looks down, embarrassed, and squeezes her hands together. I sigh and look up at the stage. The escort, Kiwi Godin, walks up there. Her heels click, which I can hear from my location. She looks like a fruit, maybe a green apple, and her bright colors hurt my eyes.

Kiwi plays the video of past Hunger Games that glorifies the competition, with President Maximilian Childress narrating. It's always intrigued me, and I remember watching it as intently as possible last year. Then, it shows Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, the "star-crossed lovers" from District Twelve. They were such idiots, and I can't help but smile when I see Cato, the victor, kill them by feeding the tributes to the wolf mutts. I wonder what Panem would be like if Katniss or Peeta won.

Then, she turns the movie off and talks about how excited she is for the Games to begin. _You think you're excited_, I think, _What about the tributes that compete_? Although I might not thoroughly show it on the outside, I'm very exhilarated inside. Finally, after all of her useless rambling, she draws the name for the female tribute. My smile grows and grows, and I hear her say,

"Tegan Polis." Tegan appears to be a thin, timid girl with long black hair. What is up with all these wimps? When she finally makes it to the stage, she breaks down crying. Being the sadist I am, I let her become as tortured as possible before I volunteer. Kiwi pats her back and gives her a hug. I know I'm too late, because she's calming down, but...

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout as loud as possible. Marcella gives me a weird look, as if she's questioning why I'd do that, but I have my reasons. Back at the Academy, although I don't have good marks academically, I do exemplary in training. A week ago, Ursus Dayton, the head of the Academy, talked to me in private about volunteering for the Hunger Games. I always knew that one Winners sister would be victorious, so I agreed to do it.

When I walk up to the stage, I introduce myself, and Tegan is carried away. Through the corner of my eye, I think I can see her giving me a wink. I simply shrug my shoulders and bask in my achievement.

"Are you related to Daisy?" Kiwi asks.

"Was. She _was_ my sister. And I'm going to win, unlike her." The ditzy escort looks a little intimidated, probably by my words and tone of voice, so I give her a glare to add on to that.

After taking a deep breath, Kiwi announces, "Congratulations to our female tribute, Luna Winners!" I expect a standing ovation, but I get less claps than I anticipate. I curtsy and smile, hoping that I can increase my popularity level. After a few cute and seductive moves, I manage to get a lot more fans. Hopefully, it will stay this way throughout the Games. _Of course it will_, I think, _No one can be better than_ _Luna_ _Winners_.

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**Preston POV**

When I wake up, the first thing I do is look outside my window. The sky's pitch black, and I check the time using the clock on my ceiling. Those bright green numbers read, "3:42". Typically, I get up around six to make it in time for the Training Academy, my school. I don't need to set an alarm, because I'm so used to things the way they are. However, I rarely wake up in the middle of the night.

I hear the television on downstairs. My parents always stay up and watch shows, while Grandma and I go to sleep. To be honest, my grandma pretty much sleeps whenever she isn't eating or doing anything relevant. She moved into our home when Grandpa died five years ago. He passed away while Grandma was out and running errands, so no one really knows the true cause of his death. It's a little like the old president, Coriolanus Snow, who was banned from getting an autopsy. However, they just buried Grandpa's body as quickly as possible to spare Grandma a lot of grief. When she moved here, there was a significant personality change. My old grandmother was extroverted and friendly, while this one barely smiles and is more quiet than me. That's saying a lot!

Most of the dialogue from the television is audible, but I can't process every single word. Some person from the Capitol starts talking about politics, so I space off. My least favorite class at the Academy is Panem Government, which I find very boring. I keep my mouth shut about it, though. My philosophy is that if I don't have anything important to say, then I won't say anything at all. It's worked for seventeen years, so I guess it's pretty successful.

Then, I hear someone say, "reaping". I jump, and I start to feel nervous. How could I not remember that the reaping's soon? Although Reaping Day's a significant part of my culture, for some reason, I feel more nervous about it this year. I can't figure out why, but it seems to be a sensitive topic if anyone brings the issue up. Now, I start to listen as closely as possible. I figure out that the man speaking is Mather Salazar, who hosts the interviews. He asks the announcer during the Games, Maxim Featherson, some questions.

"What do you think will be some obstacles this year?"

"What are you looking forward to the most?"

"What would you do if you were a tribute?"

I can't handle it anymore, so I open the door outside of my room. My family is very wealthy, so therefore, we have a large and classy house. I act humble about it, because I don't want to end up like this girl named Luna. She's in some of my training classes, and all she does is boast about how perfect she is and how she's so much better than her "dumb, deceased sister". If I were outgoing enough, I'd tell her to stop it, but I'm not, so I end up standing there doing nothing, along with the others.

I close the door behind me and step out onto the balcony. Instinctively, I hold onto the railing and walk down the steps that lead to our yard. Also, it's the middle of the night, so I have to be extra careful. I make my way to the front of the house and take a walk on the intricate path leading to other homes nearby.

Walking as far as possible, I end up in the more urban area of the district. There's a lot of shops around here, so I go into this popular store called "Dulce". It has all kinds of sweets, from ice creams to fudge. If you type in what you want on the order pad, it's delivered right away. In World History, we learned about this invention called a "vending machine", used about a thousand years ago. The Dulce pad is kind of like that, but it's much more advanced and efficient.

I don't really go to Dulce that frequently, but for some reason, I really want to be here tonight. For emergencies, I always keep a money clip attached to my pants, and I get it out. On the Dulce pad, I type in three different orders.

"ONE MEDIUM VANILLA ICE CREAM"

"ONE BLOCK PEANUT BUTTER FUDGE"

"TWO CHOCOLATE SANDWICH COOKIES"

After I pay for the sweets, they're sent to me automatically, but in an organized manner. I get a plastic bag from the box on my right, and I put the treats in there.

When I leave Dulce, I start to feel tired. Being logical, I make my way home. Although it takes a few minutes, I find the path that I used earlier. My pace is slightly slower, and I have to keep myself awake. I rub my eyes and stretch out my arms. The whole way home, I do something like that every other minute.

I go into the backyard and contemplate how to get in. There's the stairs leading to my room, but I want to do something else first. I use the door leading to the kitchen and type in the pass code. C-H-E-C-K. My parents are both asleep on the sofa by the television, which I can see from the kitchen. I take out the Dulce products and place them on the dinner table. Then, I sneak back outside and climb up the staircase to my bedroom.

I spend about seven hours in there and can't go back to sleep, no matter how hard I try.

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I stand with the other District One citizens in the crowded area, awaiting the reaping. I don't really interact with anybody, so the only thing I do is look around and think to myself. While I anticipate the reaping to begin, I keep on thinking about what caused me to give my family the sweets. It was almost a message, saying that I loved them. But why would I do it at that moment? Typically, the only reason why I'd do that is to apologize after an argument.

My thoughts are interrupted by the District One escort, Kiwi Godin. She has lime-green everything, from hair to shoes. It kind of creeped me out at the first reaping, but I'm used to it after a few years. She plays the annual Hunger Games video, showing all of the victors and miscellaneous clips. Everyone's eyes are glued to the screen, and I see a tear coming out of the eye of this boy right next to me. I wonder if it's from sadness or pride. It's hard to tell these days.

When the video is over, Kiwi gives a speech about her enthusiasm of the Games and puts her hand in the bowl to select the female tribute. Some of the girls near me start whispering, but I remain calm and neutral.

"Tegan Polis." Who was that? I had never heard of her before, but when she walks on to the stage, she appears to be a small girl with long, black hair. _Probably_ _a_ _twelve-year-old_, I think. Then, she breaks out in tears, and I start to feel anxious. Will she be okay? Tegan's left on the stage for about five minutes, until I hear a voice call out.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I realize that it's the Luna girl from the Academy, and I start to get anxious. She'd probably kill anyone in the arena whenever she desired, even her district partner. I see Tegan being carried away, and I wonder what she's feeling at the moment.

"Are you related to Daisy?" Kiwi asks Luna.

"Was. She _was_ my sister. And I'm going to win, unlike her." _Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me_, I tell myself about fifty times. However, I still feel a little nervous.

Kiwi says, "Congratulations to our female tribute, Luna Winners!" Although only a few people clap at first, she impresses the crowd and receives more applause. I don't particularly like Luna, but I still clap for conformity reasons.

"Now, the male tribute," Kiwi proceeds when the clapping dies down. She puts her hand in the bowl and reads the name. My palms start to sweat, and my knees shake. I've never been this nervous before, and-

"Preston Check." I stand there as petrified as possible. I don't think it's possible to move a muscle, but Kiwi repeats my name, so I'm forced to walk up there. I don't say a word, even when she asks me questions. All I do is nod my head or shrug my shoulders when she wonders...

"How old are you?"

"How do you feel now?"

"What's your family like?"

Luna gives me a glare, and I look down at my shoes. I can't handle to have a new official enemy. That kid when I was thirteen caused me enough trauma for a lifetime! I take a deep breath, and I don't even care how many people are clapping. However, Luna tries to gain even more fans by holding my hand and lifting them up. She scratches at it, and I cringe.

_This is going to be a long time at the Training Center._

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**Thanks, Rippo100 and Amially! I appreciate all of my loyal readers, and I have all my tributes! **


	3. District Two Reaping

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

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**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

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**District Two Reaping**

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_A boy with light brown hair and chocolate brown eyes walks into the room, multiple pairs of eyes attracted to him like a magnet. Although slightly timid and embarrassed on the inside, he acts as confident as possible. What if he gets chosen? What if she volunteers?_

_"Greetings," a graying man begins, "It's been quite a few, hasn't it?"_

_"Yes, indeed," the boy replies. However, time passes by so quickly for him. One event after another; very spontaneous. Everything changed after that inhumane yet intriguing day...or shouldn't one say, weeks? _

_"Shouldn't you try it, just this once?" The boy inhales and exhales very slowly, trying to maintain calm under pressure. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and takes one last breath before he announces the one word response that will change everything._

_"Yes."_

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**Maconnerie POV**

"Mac," my brother Adam quizzes me, "Out of these four options, which is the best survival strategy?" I listen to him more carefully, so I have a higher chance of an accurate answer. "Choice one, avoid all contact with other tributes and don't even go to the bloodbath." I automatically eliminate that one for multiple reasons. First off, if I compete in the Games this year, then the concept of me as a Career is inevitable. The Careers never shy away, and they're always in the open, ready for their next kill. I remember that from another review session and years of watching the competition. Typically, the more introverted people come from the non-Career districts.

Adam told me this one story about a girl from a century ago named Fiona. Her nickname was "Foxface", because of her fox-like features. She also had a sly and elusive personality. I was almost positive it was a conspiracy, but Adam told me to quit assuming things. The Fiona girl was from District Five, which is our power district. During the games, she made a pretty idiotic decision that I'd never do if my life depended on it; she abandoned her district partner in favor of being alone. Fiona was pretty hard to find, but she died while eating some nightlock berries.

There were different theories on why she ate the nightlock, but I think she didn't study her edible plants. According to this book about the seventy-fourth Hunger Games that my friend Lina read in school, Fiona typically studied the plants during training. When she told me about it, I laughed for hours and days and weeks, because of how ridiculous her strategy was. If she had been in an alliance with more people, then at least one of them could do the hunting while she worked on her "strengths".

_The more the merrier_, I think.

"Choice two," Adam continues, "Form an alliance with one other person and remain discreet." In my head, I'm laughing like crazy. When people in Panem think about two allies, the first thing that comes to mind is the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

I think they competed in the same Hunger Games that Fiona did; the seventy-fourth one. That Hunger Games was a milestone for multiple reasons. Katniss was the first volunteer from District Twelve, but their love was the main thing that stood out to me. Originally, the female tribute operated on her own, but she eventually formed an alliance with the girl from Eleven, Rue. However, the young girl was speared by District One's male tribute, Marvel. Frankly, I'm smarter than that alliance combined and multiplied by five. Of course, Katniss only had one partner, so the chances of her being alone again were much higher than a Career's.

Meanwhile, Peeta was hiding from the Career tributes, but I'm not sure why. We're amazing! Katniss discovered him hiding under some rock; using this stupid camouflaging trick. For the rest of the Games, at least when they were alive, these two formed an official alliance. They were both loyal, but they definitely needed more people. There could've been less romance as well. If so, maybe Clove wouldn't have killed Katniss. Actually, that wouldn't be such a great thing. Your district _always_ goes before the others.

"Choice three, ally with multiple people, but betray them when more people die."

_Hahaha, very funny_, I think. Career tributes always stick together, no matter what! When watching the Games, I notice that we're generally loyal to each other, which I plan to imitate. Why would they betray each other, anyway? During Adam's Hunger Games, four years ago, he had a strong and dedicated alliance. They were smart, obedient, and quick.

The reason why the other five people died was due to natural and Gamemaker factors. Two of them, the pair from Four, were killed by some lizard-monster mutts created by the latter. The other three, the pair from One and the girl from Two, died in a storm while Adam was ordered to keep guard. There's a part of me that thinks my brother won from plain luck, but he was fairly smart and resourceful.

Finally, Adam gives the last choice, "Or ally with multiple people and remain loyal throughout the whole game."

"That's the one," I answer.

"Correct," Adam responds, "You'll be an amazing tribute." I smile and bask in my pride for a very long time.

* * *

I walk into the crowd of District Two teenagers, although I know I stand out with my yellow dress. I stand as tall as possible to embrace that. Shouldn't tributes be confident? Even more people will like me, so I'll get more sponsors during the Games. Adam told me that during our training together. I wonder if he's going to be a mentor this year. He hasn't in the past, but things might change this year. This morning, Adam wasn't at home, but even though I'm eighteen and an adult, my parents won't tell me where he is.

There's a giggle on the stage, and I look up to see the escort from our district, Gemini Zimmerman. She has the same orange and black striped hair from last year, but her dress is blue. That definitely contrasts the bright red dress from the one hundred seventy-third Hunger Games! She plays the annual video, but I spend my time thinking about other things. To be completely honest, I don't like the way Panem treats the other districts, even though they're inferior to us. However, I have it pretty good, so I try not to think about the others too much.

A wave of stress crashes through my mind; fearing all the possible events. The one I'm most concerned about is the fact that another person might volunteer before I do. The Career's are known for volunteering, so there's a chance that it could happen. I glance at the other people standing with me and guess their abilities. While a few seem slightly nervous, the bulk of them are fairly calm and keep their eyes glued to the screen.

When the movie ends, Gemini laughs again. I'm a little weirded out by her, but you could do worse. She walks over to the female bowl and pulls out a name. Maybe it might be me, and I won't have the fear of competition, but what if someone else volunteers? I cross my fingers for good luck, but the name I hear makes me feel like I've been stabbed in the heart.

"Lina Frye." _Great_, I think, _How will she react if I volunteer? Will she be grateful or annoyed that I stopped her chance of competing? It's her last year, but I have a lot more experience and training. If one of us will die, it's going to be me._

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout. Lina shoots me a what-the-hell look as she almost makes it to the stage, but I know what I'm doing. I dash to Gemini and shake her hand. I bet I did everything correctly, but what if I embarrass myself in front of the whole district?

"What is your name?" Gemini questions.

"Maconnerie Tess."

She raises a very thin eyebrow and asks, "Are you related to the famous Adam?"

I nod my head and add on, "Lina and I are good friends, too." Lina looks at me, back in the audience, and a smile forms on her face. I wink at her, but return to my brief interview. It's great preparation for the one the night before the games! After Gemini asks me three more questions, she moves on to the male tribute. I scan my eyes around the audience, trying to predict who it will be. Chances are, he'll volunteer, but it passes time.

* * *

**Evan POV**

_Crack! _That's my right leg, and even though my eyes are still closed, I know it's been injured. I squint my eyes and start to rub where the injury is. However, I'm blocked by a deep scratch on my left hand. I swear the incision is as deep as a carnivorous mutt's would be. To defend myself, I swat my injured hand at my enemy, but I feel a strong blow to my back. Then, it happens again.

"Wake up, you son of a bitch!" I realize that this is my father, jumping on my back as hard as possible. To appease him, I open my eyes and try to turn around. It's too late, though. He punches me in the eye, and I cover it with my good hand. "Listen, idiot, you follow my orders when I say so! Shouldn't that be clear by sixteen goddamn years?"

"I understand, sir," I say in the hopes that the abuse will end for the day. He rolls his eyes and spits on me. I don't know what he'll do if I wipe it off, so I remain in this position until he leaves my room. Finally, he closes the door, and I'm left in peace. I try to open my damaged eye, but it's too hard to do that at the moment. My plan is to just get a cold washcloth and put it over the injury until I'm feeling better.

Just when I think I'm completely safe from my pathetic excuse of a "father", whom we frequently call Winter, I hear him yell, "Evan, you will never understand! I expect to see you at the reaping, and if I don't, I will kill you!" He slams the front door and leaves for good. The typical person who hears my father threatening to kill me probably thinks he's being sarcastic, but the sad thing is, he's being honest.

When I was three years old, my sister, Natalya was born, but my mom died from labor complications. Before the incident, Winter was a fairly nice man, at least from my experience, but I vividly remember the first time he beat me. A week had passed since my mother's death, and I didn't understand the concept of dying, so I went to the only adult figure I had...my father.

I asked him, "Where's Mommy?", and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor crying. Since I was just a toddler, I was more sensitive, so things hurt even more. I was mottled with bruises along my arms, legs, and face. One day, when I was six, I saw Winter beat Natalya, which upset me. I stepped in, and fortunately, she wasn't hurt too badly, but this led to two major consequences...

I became my father's predominant target. Apparently, before I stood up for Natalya, he physically abused other people. At least, that's what Katlyn says. When I was ten, my older sister told me that he beat our mother, even when she was pregnant. Katlyn did the same thing that I did; defended the family member, but she had to pay a price as well. Although she was physically abused as well, she seems less traumatized by the concept.

The other one was Natalya's strange obsession with me. There's nothing extremely special about me, but she thinks I'm a god. I guess I could've saved her life, but I don't really find the event that heroic. Nowadays, she walks around claiming she wants us to get married, which actually scares the shit out of me. Even though she's thirteen and old enough to know what incest is, she doesn't even care. I don't know what she'll do if I go into the Games (or if she does), since Katlyn's already an adult and married. All she'll have is our cat, Vanya.

_I seriously need to get better before I go to the Reaping,_ I tell myself.

* * *

"Evan..." Natalya says, "I'm scared." She's biting her fingernails and shaking her legs, even though it's her second time at the Reaping. Her hair is pulled back into two braids, which I helped her with, and she's wearing a light blue dress.

"It'll be okay," I console, "Go find some of your friends, and everything will be fine." I wish I could be a better protector of Natalya, just like Katlyn was before she moved out. If she weren't so infatuated with me, I swear she'd think I'm not much better than our dad. _Stop it!_ I tell myself.

Before I can analyze too much, Natalya interrupts me by saying, "Thanks! See ya soon!" Wow, that sure was a drastic change! I go over to the male section and try to look for someone that I don't want to kill at the moment. After five minutes of searching, I find this okay kid at the Academy named Ares. We're not really friends, but we're not enemies, if you know what I mean. I hope Winter's nowhere near. If he does, I'll feel like running away. What will he do this year?

Last year, some twelve-year-old boy was reaped, and while he threw a temper tantrum, my dad actually carried him up to the stage and interrupted Gemini, the strange escort, before she could ask for volunteers. Guess who died in the bloodbath? Speaking of Gemini, she walks onto the stage with her signature tiger hair, which still freaks me out. I feel bad for the kids who have to stand only a few feet away from her...

Being all giggly and perky, I can hear her make a quiet but high laugh while she plays the video of previous Hunger Games. I'm not as attentive to every single detail, unlike some other kids I know, but I do make note of the victors and that crap. Even after Gemini sees a video showing tons of blood and death, she's as happy as a little kid on their birthday. Well, anyone but me. Still, you get the gist!

After the screen is turned off for good, the female's about to be reaped. _Not Natalya, not Natalya, not Natalya._ I take a deep breath and remain calm, but I really hope it's not my little sister.

"Lina Frye." I try not to laugh as her name is read. For one year, back when I was fourteen, I had the hugest crush on her, even though she was two years older than me. As she walks to the stage, I can't help but look at her bright red hair-the hair I used to want to touch, even if it was one time. Hopefully, she doesn't die. I mean, she's nice, and there's a chance that I might...

"I volunteer as tribute!" this girl from the other side of the square yells. She goes towards the stage. I may have seen her at the Academy once or twice, but I can't place a name. She is interviewed by Gemini, and I discover that she's the younger sister of Adam Tess, the victor of the one-hundred-seventieth Hunger Games. This should be interesting.

"Now, for the boys!" Gemini says. It seems like she's taking a million years to pull that one paper from the bowl, but when I hear that name, I don't know how everything will turn out.

"Evan Braginsky."

* * *

**I know that was a pretty bad ending, but I'm out of ideas for the night. Sorry that I haven't posted in a LONG time. I've been having an issue for a while which is stressing me out, but it's getting better, so I feel more motivated now! I'm thinking of going to the training after the 12 reaping chapters. What do you guys think? **

**- Illuminated Blackness**


	4. Districts Three and Four Reapings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

* * *

**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

* * *

**Districts Three and Four Reapings**

* * *

**District Three: Christine POV**

I look over to the boy's section of the district square and try to spot my boyfriend, John. He's a year older than me, and we've been dating for quite awhile. I skipped a grade when I was fourteen, because I was, according to the headmaster, "Exceeding the general intelligence of a child her age and needs to enrich her mind.". Therefore, I ended up in John's history class.

It had been a hard year, and I thought getting a boyfriend would help with my stress level. I mean, I had no parental figure anymore. Technically speaking, it was my fault that my mother died, since she was giving birth to me. I guess I wasn't necessarily the cause of my dad's death. The Cord's Disease, colloquially known as influenza, was spread around his work place, and he caught it. He suffered from it for a few months, until he died four months shy of my fourteenth birthday.

That would definitely be traumatizing for anyone, and when John asked me out after I helped him with his homework, the hedonic side of me took over. For the first few weeks, he seemed like a genuinely charming and kind-hearted boy, but I was wrong. One Friday night, he invited me to this restaurant, and we actually had a pretty good time there. However, when we went on a walk, we had a discussion about the Hunger Games.

When I explained, "I think it's an inhumane idea," he slapped me so hard that I swear my cheek stung a few days later. I knew I had to get away from him, but he became even more controlling each day. One time, he threatened to hurt me if I left. I wasn't accustomed to that, since my dad would never, ever lay a finger on me.

Now, it's just part of the daily routine. He glares at me with his cold, blue eyes when he finally spots me, and I try not to show my slight intimidation. Instead, I smile and look up at the stage. Persephone's back again this year, as always. I swear that kooky escort has anxiety issues. She's always so nervous at the Reaping, which pisses me off. Her life isn't at stake!

She's wearing a forest green dress and has her black hair tied in these intricate braids. I really want to cut them off if she keeps up her dumb idiosyncrasies. She plays the Hunger Games video, and I have to spend a million years listening to President Childress's torturous voice. Why do people enjoy spending time watching teenagers in pain? I hope those sadistic bastards get just what they deserve some time or later.

When she stops the video, she goes over to the female reaping bowl. Her hand keeps shaking, so it's taking ten times longer to announce the tribute. I take a deep breath and tell myself that everything will be okay. I close my eyes, but they open when I hear-

"Christine Sparks."

I slowly walk up to the stage and analyze the pros and cons of the whole concept. However, I can only think of one positive thing.

Maybe I'll be free from John.

* * *

**District Three: John POV**

Why won't that idiot stop looking at me? I only dated her, because her dad died and she was being such a whiny brat about it. Who decided that she should skip a grade? She's about as smart as a rock. One day, she cries when I beat her, and the next, she's checking me out. What the hell?

I give her a glare, and I think I scared her half to death. She goes back to her business, acting like she's so much better than everyone and tilting her head up. I'd seriously kill her if I had the chance. There's this really pretty girl in my science; maybe she can be my replacement. But for now, Christine's mine, and only mine. If she decides to leave, she'll have the worst punishment...

One night, we were watching the 173rd Hunger Games in my family room. My parents and my brother Phillip weren't home, so we pretty much had the right to do whatever the hell we wanted. At least, I could. She was just a stupid and weak child. What was she worth, anyway? The male tribute from our district, Julius Hermes, was in this pretty intense and epic battle with the girl from Five.

To support my region, I shouted, "Kill that bitch!" as loudly as possible. I had a lot of commentary, so I kept on egging him on and hoping that girl would die soon. However, Christine decided to suck the fun out of it.

"John, please stop."

I'm sorry, but that was the last straw for the night. I punched her in the nose and spat on her face. When she tried to leave, I grabbed her arms and yelled all the cuss words I knew. That wimp wouldn't stop bawling, so I finally decided to stop. However, I let her know to always obey me, no matter what.

I'm thrilled when the escort, Persephone, plays the video she does each year. It's probably my favorite movie. It's so much fun seeing past tributes and what they do to win. I mostly focus on the District Three victors, since I know I'll be up there very, very soon. When she stops the video, she goes over to the girl's reaping bowl and draws out a name. Although a lot of the girls seem nervous, I just stand there with my arms crossed.

"Christine Sparks."

Holy shit! My girlfriend is going into the Hunger Games! I swear this is going to be the funniest thing ever! When she finally makes it to the stage, Persephone asks her some questions.

"How old are you?"

"How do you feel?"

"Which part of Three are you from?"

Christine answers the questions short and sweet. Then, she reaps the boy tribute. I act as confident as possible, but I'm pretty freaked out when she reads the name.

"John Destler."

Maybe I'll have the chance to torture Christine more than before! My awesome head's thinking of all these amazing ideas.

* * *

**District Four: Molly POV**

When somebody asks me the first word that comes to mind if they say, "Hunger Games", I automatically know what my true response is. However, I can't really say it in this country, but I can think about it.

Oppression.

Oppression.

Oppression.

This is what our lives have turned into. I've always wondered what our area was like even before Panem existed. Our science teacher told us that pretty much everybody died after a meteor hit, but new life formed about a thousand years after this incident. However, I'm more curious about the society part. Were the leaders good? Even if they weren't no one compares to the tyrants like Snow, Landon, and Childress.

Sometimes, I wish I could travel back in time and see the good life. Even though I live in a more respected district, I still feel like things are pretty bad. I can't imagine what life is like for Eleven, Twelve, etc. Actually, I could, but it's too painful to think about.

The thing that bothers me most about Panem is the Hunger Games. I don't like the fact that people celebrate death. It's not a happy thing; I'd know. Five years ago, there was a flood in District Four. My brother, Gilon, was coming home from a long day of fishing and ended up drowning. We didn't discover this until the flood ended, since someone found his body.

Ever since the incident, I've been really close to my grandpa. Although I have my mom, I need a supportive male figure in my life. I mean, I have my younger brother and dad, but I haven't really been that close with them. Ever since my brother was old enough to fish, my dad basically made him a top priority. I know he loves me, but sometimes, I feel forgotten.

So here I am, waiting to see which two kids will be chosen for a game where they'll most likely be killed. I try not to show my annoyance, so I just look down at the ground. However, my thoughts are interrupted by the escort. I can't remember her name, but her voice is familiar. She plays the Hunger Games video, and I really want to close my eyes. I know the reactions I'll get from the kids around me, though.

The escort goes to the reaping bowl when the video's over, and she draws a name. My palms are sweaty, so I wipe them on my dress. I really want to run away and cry, but I have to stay calm. Everything's going to be okay...

"Greta Laub."

I know her! She's at the Academy with me, and I think we're in science and arithmetic together. Greta's pretty nice, but we're not close friends. We sometimes talk at lunch, or at least I do. She's mute, which causes her to get bullied a lot. I'm too shy to yell at the bullies, but I try to make her feel welcome by sitting with her. She always smiles when she sees me coming her way. Greta's too friendly and sweet to deserve this, so I'm almost positive I'm doing the right thing by saying-

"I volunteer!" I run up to the stage and smile at Greta. However, she looks very sad, since I see some tears form in her ocean blue eyes. She walks back to the audience, and I hope she'll be okay. _Optimism is key_, I tell myself.

* * *

**District Four: Jason POV**

I stand in the same old cluster of bastards for the seventh time, located in the same old square, and listening to the same old idiotic escort. Everytime I hear the name "Sophia Hatutian", I want to go around and stab every person in District Four. I actually would, if I had the chance. And wasn't too spontaneous. Instead of actually doing anything too drastic, I just clench my fists and pretend I'm choking somebody.

I don't really have anyone here. The closest person to me is my mom, but we don't really talk. My dad left us a long time ago, but to be completely honest, I don't give a mockingjay's ass about it. It wasn't like I knew him that well, so whatever. I spend most of my time in my room, which leads to a lot of holes in my walls. Punching the wall is pretty much a way that releases my anger, but it always comes back when I go to the Academy.

Every single day, at least one person does something to piss me off, which doesn't do them any good. They're clearly inferior to me, especially when they do whatever the hell annoys me, so I kinda want to show them that. Also, I get some of my anger out. The incident I remember the most is about Dotty Kazan. She was this really outspoken bitch at the Academy.

One day, she told me, "You need anger management." I had had a pretty hard day, so I charged right at her and grabbed her neck. I kept on kicking her in the legs. The teachers had to pull me away, so Dotty survived. However, she never came back after that. No one knows what happened to her. As for me, I was suspended for a few weeks, but they knew I had great potential, so they let me stay.

Speaking of ability tests, the s-word, I mean Sophia, starts to play the video. All the tributes from past Games are pretty dumb. Why would you eat poison berries, or go touch a tracker jacker nest? It's pretty funny seeing all of those dumbasses kill each other, so I'm not as "chilled" as the other people standing by me.

When Sophia stops the video, she reaps the girl tribute. There are two types of girls in District Four. The first kind start crying when they get reaped or act like a total wimp. Those ones make me want to puke. The other kind volunteer as soon as possible. I wonder what kind of idiot will be the tribute this year.

"Greta Laub."

That name's pretty stupid, if you ask me. This Greta girl walks up to the stage, but doesn't react at all. She's probably be Type One, since she seems pretty weak. However, that bitch gets out of being killed by just two words.

"I volunteer!"

We learn that the new tribute is a thirteen year old named Molly Sobell. Chances are that she'll die in the bloodbath. She remains calm, but I secretly hope she'll get the shit scared out of her sooner or later.

"Now, the boys," Sophia announces. She picks up a slip of paper and starts to read, "Peter-"

"I volunteer!" I shout as loud as possible. This is my last year of possibly being reaped, and I'm going to make it an unforgettable one. No exceptions.

* * *

**So, do you guys like my new system? Now, I only have 4 reaping chapters left! I also forgot to thank savinanana and CottonCandy57 in Chapter 3, so I'll do that now. For this chapter, thanks to angelheart4ever, Silenthunder, and Amially. I really like the dynamics of ALL these characters, so thanks! See you soon! :D**

**- Illuminated Blackness**

**P.S. If I forgot something, let me know in the reviews and/or PM.**


	5. Districts Five and Six Reapings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

* * *

**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

* * *

**Districts Five and Six Reapings**

* * *

**District Five: Keyla POV**

I clean my glasses with my blue, long-sleeved shirt for the tenth time in the last five minutes. I've had them since I was seven years old, so I'm used to them fogging up. However, I'm obsessive about it when I feel nervous about something, and this is one of those times. For another dreadful year, we're experiencing the inhumane Hunger Games. Whoever thought of the idea needs to be...I'm not going to say it. I'm pretty conservative about what I say, and I want to keep it that way.

Although I won't plan on telling you the diabolical things going on in my mind, I will admit that the government is a bunch of sadistic, idiotic bastards who don't know a thing about ruling a country. What kind of person thinks it's okay for young, innocent children to be killed by other young, innocent children? I think one of the saddest things about this country is that some of the TRIBUTES enjoy the concept of a Hunger Games. When I watch the interviews on our television, I want to throw something at the Careers every single year. The things they say make me want to vomit.

"I'm going to kill every one of those tributes."

"I'm so excited!" (My commentary: To see kids being killed? To be totally frank, a lot of the people in Five despise this, including my family. We have our strong opinions, but we're actually reserved about them.)

"Yes, we have a complete and thorough plan to murder the weaker ones."

I take a deep breath and put my glasses back on. I tap my foot and try to occupy my mind with more menial things before the reaping begins. I'm wearing tennis shoes, which I find a lot more relaxing than other types. Then, I hear someone touch a microphone, and I try not freak out. This is my fourth time being in this area; possibly being selected for a terrible "competition".

The escort that I've seen three times, including now, walks onto the stage. Although I'm not the biggest fan of escorts, Reni Chase isn't as bad as the old one. I think her name was Elly, but I can't remember completely. The thing that stood out to me the most was her high-pitched voice. It sounded like one of my siblings giving our cats, Shadow and Breeze, a bath at the same time in radically cold water. Although Reni's voice is on the higher side, hers is relatively mild compared to my past experience.

She plays the video, which I have to be calm during. Tears form in my brown eyes as I see people killed by being stabbed, drowned, speared, and in other disturbing ways. I wipe them away with my hand, and I try to keep myself from making any cries or other sounds. If I'm going to be this upset during the reaping, I can't imagine how depressed I'll be during the Games. When she stops the video and is about to select the female tribute, I prepare myself for the worst.

"Keyla Sparks." Suddenly, I become more shaky and nervous than ever. As I walk up to the stage, I wobble a bit, but I manage to form a small smile. I'm greeted by a friendly and welcoming Reni, but all I can think is, _You don't know what it feels like_.

* * *

**District Five: Athru POV**

This is by far the most menial activity I've ever had to do in my totalitarian nation, colloquially known as Panem. What is it, a typical civilian might ask. Well, I will elucidate the fascist competition children have to compete in every year, no matter what. Unless someone volunteers for them, which is only prevalent in the Career districts, One, Two, and Four. This, my acquaintance, is the Hunger Games.

One hundred seventy-four years ago, this event was created by the new leader, Cauthon. It was, as condensed as I can possibly describe, a punishment for a rebellion against the government. I know a lot of people who want to start a new revolution, but my philosophy is this: If you can't do anything about it, then you have to be tough about it. Oh, and to the people who teased me for "failing" at science, I just said a hypothesis statement, so screw you all!

I'm definitely smarter than most of the people in Five, maybe even Panem. Except for my mom, who's a genius, but decided not to use her fullest potential. She could've accepted that research job, but there was something defined as "an extreme workload". Instead, she gambles and tricks others into giving her money. It's not that bad of a job, but maybe I could redeem the Gees name by getting one of the most intelligent occupations in Five. I don't have a father figure, but I have a general idea on who he is.

Even my mom doesn't know who my dad is, but I can't detect the veracity of that statement. As I said earlier, she's smarter than the average "power-plantian-person" (alliteration is entertaining for the mind), but I don't think she can reach my potential. There's this mysterious man who immigrated from Twelve. He lives in this abandoned shack at the edge of town, and he doesn't talk to anyone. His name's Radley, and I hear people talking about him. According to people close to me, he's tall and thin, has wispy black hair, and the rare gray eyes, like me. At least, they're rare in Five. My theory is that he's my real dad, but I keep mum about it.

Despite all the mystery and scandal, my mom and I make a great alliance. I swear she's the only person who treats me like a mature adolescent, not a little kid. Even without a present father, we can get by in this treacherous society.

Now, it's time for the female tribute to be announced. I didn't bother watching the video; all I did was look up at the azure sky and picked at my pockets. This place is as boring as hell, and I can't wait to escape. The escort, Reni, walks over to the bowl and reaps a name.

"Keyla Sparks."

A girl with dirty blonde hair and glasses heads toward the stage, and I can tell she's anxious. Clearly, this girl is a simpleton...or isn't experienced at all. If the Careers see the reaping, they'll kill that girl faster than you can say "whiplash". Reni asks her multiple questions that she answers in a quick but friendly manner. This bitch seems like a goody-goody, which pisses me off.

"Now, for the boys," Reni announces.

"Athru Gees." This is the part where my acting skills come in. I start sobbing and act like a toddler. It's better than just acting nervous. Chances are, I'm younger than that Keyla girl, since it's my first year, and I'll clearly get more sponsors. A Peacekeeper carries me up to the stage, and I continue to scream.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" asks Reni.

"NOOOOO!" I scream, "I'm gonna get through this! I will!"

"Well," Reni says, definitely frightened by my reaction, "Congratulations to our District Five tributes, Keyla Sparks and Athru-"

I spontaneously break out in tears for a second time. This is quite amusing, to be perfectly frank.

"...Gees."

* * *

**District Six: Tryss POV**

Really? Can anyone think of a worser place to live than Panem? I mean, we're not particularly exposed to the extraneous areas; just our lame excuse of a "country". If our government actually cared about any district other than One, Two, and Four, then maybe Mother might still be alive. When I was six years old, she was currently slaving away on this advanced train for President Childress. Our district's claim to fame is transportation, so by the time you can walk, you'll inevitably be working on some kind of vehicle.

The Embers family typically goes into trains, according to five generations of stories I hear every year when living relatives visit. Mother's maiden name was Schmidt, and although her family generally went into the automobile department, she didn't believe in conformity. Changing her surname wasn't the only thing; she also changed her interests. From then on, she started working on trains.

One day, she was taking measurements out on the train track. (Keep in mind that this train she created was entirely for Childress's pleasure.) Ironically, this happened to be at the same time as a test for another train. The driver couldn't see Mother, and she was hit and automatically killed. I didn't thoroughly understand what was going on at the time, but now, I know all the facts...and I can fairly blame the perpetrators. Mostly, I blame Childress, but I also think the head of the train department should be punished. They could have looked at all the times and events.

However, I try not to think about it too much. There's things I have that others don't, like a nice father and nice siblings. Dad's always supportive of everything I do, and Lohn and Meeka are tolerable. They can sometimes be annoying, but they're just typical kids. If anything happened to either of them, I'd do anything to save them. It's Meeka's first year at the Reaping, and I'm hoping she'll be okay.

During the annual video, all I can think about is her well-being. She's been through a lot, but she's not as wise as I am. I mean, I'm three years older than her. However, my nerves decrease a bit when the escort, Ulla, comes onto the stage. She's so naïve and idiotic that it's funny. I will always remember the first thing she says...

"It's such a delight to be in the electricity district for another time." Um...hello? District Six is TRANSPORTATION! Go to Three if you want electricity! I try to forget she ever said that, but it's quite difficult. "Now, we shall reap our female tribute." I hope for the best as she picks up a small, white slip of paper with the tips of her long fingers. However, the odds won't necessarily be in my favor.

"Meeka Embers." No! This can't be possible! I mean, there was a chance she could have been selected, but they were so slim! This seems to defy logic in every aspect! I blink multiple times to keep from crying, but I know there is a way...

"I volunteer!" I shout. I run up to the stage and give Meeka a hug along the way. I whisper four words in her ear.

_It's for the best. _

Ulla asks me, "Was that your sister?"

"Yes," I respond.

"I can't hear you. Speak louder." Wow. I take a deep breath and try again.

"YES!"

"That's better," she remarks, "Congratulations to our female volunteer..."

"Tryss Embers," I inform her.

"Yes, congratulations to Tryss Embers!"

* * *

**District Six: Crisis POV**

That's all I was to him, a crisis. A mistake. Maybe even a parasite. He's long dead, but I still remember every word he said about me. That "father" of mine called me every profanity in the book; even the unspeakable ones. If I made the slightest mistake, he'd call me out for it. Yeah, that totally built up my self confidence!

When I was twelve, he was mysteriously murdered. No one knows what really happened, but I remember that day, the day my family fell apart. My mom was picking up my twin sisters, Bloodwen and Mazz, and I from school. Once we arrived, we saw my father in the family room...surrounded in a pool of blood. That's a lovely thought, isn't it?

My mom isn't any better, though. We fight pretty much every day over the smallest things. I failed a test, I forgot to wash that shirt of hers, Bloodwen wanted to play with me and I declined-that sort of shit. I can't believe how much of a nag she is, even when I am technically an adult. I'm planning on moving out of this dump in the very near future.

However, no one is annoying as the District Six escort for the Hunger Games, Ulla. First off, what kind of name is that? Second (and more importantly), she has the IQ of a rock. Even though she's been the escort for a few years, she can't seem to grasp the fact that District Six is the TRANSPORTATION district, not the ELECTRICITY district. It makes me noxious, seeing how dumb people can be.

When she plays the video, it makes Panem even sicker than it was before. How is a kid stabbing another kid to the death a lovely sight? These people have twisted minds, and I wouldn't care if they were assassinated. Maybe I... _Okay, Crisis_, I tell myself, _Focus_.

Ulla reaps the female tribute, Meeka Embers. What a weird name! She starts to walks up to the stage. I can spot her because of her long, black hair. Then, another girl volunteers. When THIS girl walks up to the stage, she whispers something in Meeka's ear. She makes herself visible to the audience. This volunteer looks a little like Meeka, since she has black hair as well. Ulla and the volunteer have a small interview session.

"Was that your sister?"

"Yes."

"I can't hear you. Speak louder."

"YES!"

"That's better. Congratulations to our female volunteer..."

"Tryss Embers."

"Yes, congratulations to Tryss Embers! Now, for the boys." Ulla walks over to the male reaping bowl and chooses a name. She reads it out loud.

"Crisis Axel."

Really? I bet they caught me stealing from that small shop, Ford Mart, and started this conspiracy to punish me to death (literally)! I stomp my feet toward the stage, hoping that everyone can hear my movements. People look at me, and I don't give a damn. This isn't what I deserve, but the monsters that started this are going to get it!

* * *

**Thank you, Silenthunder, Vulkodlak, smserva123, and xxxRimaxxx for submitting your characters! Sorry I've been taking a million years to write each chapter. I'm currently reading To Kill a Mockingbird, which I swear is the best book to ever exist. Also, for ten Brownie points in my book, what were the two references I put in this chapter? Will be announced in CHAPTER SIX! :D**

**- Illuminated Blackness**


	6. Districts Seven and Eight Reapings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

* * *

**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

* * *

**Districts Seven and Eight Reapings**

* * *

**District Seven: Bryony POV**

There's something about being a twin that makes you feel even more protective of practically everything in your life. The way I see it is that they're your other half, and connecting with them is one of your top priorities (or should be, at least). That's why Rosalind and I are so close to each other. We were born approximately four minutes apart, with me being the younger one. However, we don't really think of it too much. We look out for each other no matter what. Even though we have another sibling, sixteen-year-old Logan, it's not the same. We don't have the same connection to him that we do ourselves.

I guess that's why I'm so attached to her during the Reaping. This is our third year coming here, but I feel more nervous for some reason. I squeeze her hand as tightly as possible, and she doesn't budge. Her green eyes with spots of yellow, not unlike mine, look at me with fear and anxiety. If we had the courage to do so, we'd run out of the district center together, but that's only for the super radical and bold people.

_"Elias Leondedis," the escort read on the tiny slip of paper. Elias, an older boy with black hair and blue eyes, looked up at the escort. Then, he started to cry. He clearly wasn't emotionally stable, so Elias was acting more manic than he would ever be. He bolted out of the center and was never to be seen again. __This happened ten years before Rosalind and I were born. We still don't know what happened to him. Some theorize that he committed suicide, others think that the Peacekeepers eventually caught up to him. No one would do anything like that nowadays._

Meanwhile, the current escort, Daisy Dragovich, walks up to the stage. She tries to emulate the look of District Seven, but I think she's overdoing it. Her hair is dyed green, and she wears a brown dress. It's more like the Capitol look, but I don't say anything. During the video, Rosalind and I whisper to each other.

"Bryony," she says, "I'm scared."

"You're going to be fine," I tell her-although I'm anxious myself, "Remember the District Seven anthem?"

"The calming tone of District Seven," she recites.

"Above all the others...Four, Eight, Eleven."

"Just a little secret between the families."

"Isn't that lovelies?"

"All the trees in the forest."

"Are the best."

"The steepness of the trees."

"Is highest in these."

"Parts of Panem."

"We just love them." We quickly smile at each other, but are soon intercepted by the reaping of the female tribute. I squeeze Rosalind's hand, even when we hear-

"Rosalind Fox." No. The other half of me will inevitably be killed in the repulsive competition we're forced to do every year, and I can't let that happen. Tears form in Rosalind's eyes, and I now give her a hug.

When we break apart, I shout, "I volunteer!"

* * *

**District Seven: Caelen POV**

I walk into the district center with my older brother, Nicolas. It's his last year to possibly be reaped, and I wish I were him. Besides that, he's basically perfect in every aspect, and I want to be him. He has a lot of friends, attracts women, and gets above average marks. Who wouldn't want that?

Not long after we go through the administration, Nicolas goes towards his infinite amount of friends and starts chatting with them. I feel a little envious, but I shrug it off and find a place to stand. It's fairly close to my brother, but not so close that it's like tagging along. Being alone gives me some time to think of any plans, and I do the annual routine of carefully planning what to do if I get reaped.

There was this District Seven tribute more than a hundred years ago named Johanna Mason, and I think of her every year at this time. She pretended to be weak so the others would ignore her. At the end of the Games, she showed her skills and became victor. I think her strategy was smart, but throughout the years, I've created a plan loosely based off of hers, but it's so much better.

She's shown in the Hunger Games video, and I also analyze the other tributes' tactics. Observing is everything these days. I put my hands in the pockets of my black jeans and tap my fingers against the fabric. It helps me remain calm and emotionless. Although others think that's a little creepy, it works for me, so that's all that should matter.

The female tribute reaped is Rosalind Fox. She doesn't make it very far, but another girl volunteers for her. The volunteer walks up to the stage, and the escort, Daisy, interviews her. She always does that, especially with the volunteers.

"So," she asks, "What is your name?"

"Bryony Fox." Of course! A sibling volunteering for another! That's actually very cliché in Panem. In history class, we learn about so many stories like this one.

"Are you related to her?" Wow, this escort is dense!

"Yes. She's my twin." Wait, I think I might have seen them at school once! They're a couple grades behind me, and they always walk together.

"That's very brave of you."

"Thanks," Bryony mutters.

"Well, now we're off to the male tribute." _Just a little bit longer_, I tell myself. Chances are that I won't be picked, since my name's not even in the tesserae. My family's not rich, but we can get by.

I'm surprised and become very anxious when I hear, "Caelen Chrysocolla." Nicolas looks at me, and I mouth "volunteer" to him. When that doesn't work, I give him a pleading look, but there's no use. I'm going to the Games no matter what. I walk up to the stage and try to conceal the fact that I'm very nervous. Unfortunately, I'm forced to shake Daisy's hand when she puts it out. This is going to be a sucky experience.

"Congratulations to our tributes, Bryony Fox and Caelen Chrysocolla!" There's a thunder of applause, but I don't feel like celebrating.

* * *

**District Eight: Petrovia POV**

I am empty. Void. I have never, ever felt this way before, except for during the yearly Reaping. Each year, I feel like a piece of my soul has been crushed and demolished. I'm pretty much dead right now, but I couldn't care less. I close my eyes and listen to all of the sounds surrounding me. There's so many that I could make note of, so I decide to do as many as time will give me.

The rustle of the wind in the sky is difficult to miss. It's typical in District Eight; the weather being rather windy. It makes me feel like I'm at home, especially when I feel lonely. Now, that I'm empty, it feels like the last thing remaining in my life. If it goes away, then I'm gone for good. It howls like a wolf, which is one of my favorite animals. Its gray fur matches my eyes, and I love their mysterious disposition.

Then, there's the murmur of other kids around me. There's a significant age range of adolescents waiting to possibly be reaped. Some of them just celebrated their twelfth birthday, while others are experiencing the Reaping for the final time. I'm in the lower half, since I'm fourteen. I vividly remember my first time at the Reaping. I had been twelve for about six months, so I was adjusting. However, when I was waiting the whole time, I was about ready to throw up. It turned out that an eighteen-year-old was reaped, but it would be one more measly year before the next Reaping.

Even then, I felt pretty anxious. It was my second year, and I knew there would be a chance that I'd be reaped. I simply tapped my foot on the hard concrete to keep myself calm. It didn't really work, though, since I wanted to cry even after minutes of my failed technique. This year, I don't know what's going to happen.

"Third time's the charm," I've heard people say before. Except, I'm not sure what it will mean in this scenario. This is my third time at the reaping, and I don't know if that phrase gives it a positive or negative connotation. Is it the third time I'll manage to be lucky and not get reaped? Or does it mean I will get reaped this time? Clearly, I'm not thinking straight if I can't even interpret that quote!

I distract my mind with more observing. I can hear the microphones being tested, which they do each year. I'm not very advanced with technology (I'm more for the textiles), but I do know that testing is important. You can't spontaneously do something without knowing what you're doing. Then, it dawns on me: the Reaping is about to begin. I hear the voice of President Childress; narrating the video.

"Rebellion. That one, significant, evil word formed Panem to what it is right now. Although this country cared for every single citizen, many were not grateful and decided to take matters into their own hands. Therefore, there were many consequences due to their transgression. The most relevant punishment was that each year, one male and female from each of the twelve, current districts would compete in the Hunger Games and fight to the death. Now, it is time for another dynamic competition, I bid you all goodbye."

Childress is such a phony. You don't have to be a genius to realize that. However, all I want is to keep my family safe. I have my mother, uncle, and two sisters-Leita and Oceania, but my father died a long time ago. There was an illness in Eight, and he inevitably caught it. My mom's brother moved in with us shortly after the incident, which helped us with our grief.

I inhale and exhale, but I hear my name being called. I open my eyes, but I quickly close them after realizing how many tears will fall very, very soon. This is it. That's what "third time's the charm" means, I suppose. I make my way to the stage, but it's very android-like. My legs are very stiff, and it's slightly difficult to walk up the stairs. If I was empty before the escort, Joslin, read my name, then I've been dead for years right now.

* * *

**District Eight: Phoenix POV**

Physical pain is a theme in my life in pretty much every way. First off, there's my home life. Mother's a pretty nice woman and does all she can to help me. Her name's Angel, which definitely fits her personality. However, my dad's the total opposite. I don't even know why my parents got married. He's like a devil who rubs his evil on every single bastard. It definitely shows on me. If you can't see that, you're an idiot. Hate to break it to you.

Every night, I experience the same goddamn beatings from my "father". If he had the guts to call himself a true parent, then I'd kill him in his sleep. I really need to do that sometime. I don't think I can live with him anymore. He's done so many things to me, and I want to scream. For example, he bites me, scratches me, and leaves hideous bruises on my body. Those are just three things he does out of hundreds.

Typically, he abuses me when Mother isn't around, but we get in arguments pretty much every single minute we're near each other. They're always over the smallest things I screw up. If he sees a crumb on the floor, he'll be as mad as the typical parent who'd just learned their child committed murder. That son of a bitch has something wrong in the head, but I don't want to find out anymore than I already know. All I want is for him to get the hell out of my life.

The other major part of my life that deals with physical abuse is the Hunger Games. In my country, Panem, we're punished for a rebellion a few idiots decided to start, and now we have to kill each other. The people reaped are actually pretty lucky, because in my opinion, killing relieves stress. However, it's a frightening and sadistic thing.

About a hundred years ago, the female tribute from Eight was killed in one of the most awful ways possible. Her name was Jori Scott, and she operated on her own. One night, I think it was the first, she made a fire to keep warm. That would've worked, except for the fact that the Careers were lurking and decided to apply that to their strategy. To sum up, Jori was burned alive. Thinking about it makes me twenty times more nervous, and I'm seriously about ready to vomit. Then, the video starts.

"Rebellion. That one, significant, evil word formed Panem to what it is right now." Sarcastic commentary makes me feel a little better, so I make smart-ass remarks in my head.

President Childress actually got that one right. But it's evil for different reasons than he thinks.

"Although this country cared for every single citizen, many were not grateful and decided to take matters into their own hands." Whoever the hell thought that was a true statement needs therapy, now! All those bastards care about are the Career districts. The others are as valuable as trash from a month ago.

"Therefore, there were many consequences due to their transgression." Gee, I wonder what it's going to be, even though I've seen this lame video two other times!

"The most relevant punishment was that each year, one male and female from each of the twelve, current districts would compete in the Hunger Games and fight to the death." No one ever deserves to fight to the death, even if killing others IS comforting.

"Now, it is time for another dynamic competition, I bid you all goodbye." Good bye, you dictator!

This girl named Petrovia gets reaped as the female tribute. When the escort, Joslin Nordstrom, announces that she's about to reap the male tribute, I get really scared. I'd break down crying if I could, but I'm not that weak.

"Phoenix Thatro." I stand still for a few seconds, but I now know what I need to do. I run as fast as I can and try to escape, but I'm caught by those Peacekeeper douche bags. They drag me onto the stage, and I can't think straight. The only thing I can do is vomit in front of District Eight.

* * *

**Thank you, Iris Hunt, OfTheDawn, and clove and cato 101. Regarding the last chapter, the 2 references were the fact that Athru's possible father was named "Radley". That was the name of a mysterious character in To Kill a Mockingbird, which I finished last night and CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT. If you haven't read it yet, go read it! The other one was "Ford Mart", named after Henry Ford. Also, do you guys think that T is an appropriate rating for this story? **

**- Illuminated Blackness**


	7. Districts Nine and Ten Reapings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

**Also, Bloom's section has a lot of obscenities. I just wanted you guys to be prepared. :P**

* * *

**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

* * *

**Districts Nine and Ten Reapings**

* * *

**District Nine: Bloom POV**

Whoever the heck decided that the Hunger Games was a GOOD idea needs:

1) Help. There are a LOT of crazy people nearby, and it's pretty screwed up. I'm not gonna go into specific stories (That would take a gazillion years to do, so why bother?), but insanity's common in this stupid country.

2) A kick in the balls. Yes, I know how sex works (Yeah, I said it. Problem?), and I know that the jerk wouldn't be able to help make a baby, but screw that! There's so many more things to worry about.

3) If this crazy person was a girl (actually, this would work for both guys and girls), them I'd punch them in the eye...while it was open. It's just one eyeball!

4) To die. Is that too much to ask? They created a competition where kids kill other kids, for God's sake! Also, this douche inspired the lame government to execute...never mind.

So here I am, waiting for another stupid reaping with an idiotic escort who I would gladly kill if I had the ability to. I'm talking about permission. Of course I have the TALENT to attack someone like that. In District Nine, I'm known for my fights. I've started conflict in school, on the streets, and even during reapings - like last year.

_"Dude!" I shouted to the guy to my right who was pissing me off, "Would you get like, two feet away from me?"_

_"I'm...I'm sorry."_

_"Don't apologize! Move!"_

_"I can't do-"_

"Find a way!" I slapped him on the cheek, and he elbowed me in the stomach. It kinda hurt me, to be honest, but I wasn't gonna tell HIM that. Yes, I'm telling the truth, and nothing BUT the truth. This was one of my more mild fights, but it WAS at the reaping. It happened when the video was playing, so most of the losers were focused on that lame "work of art", but the ones near me had the life scared out of them.

This year, during the video, things are gonna be different. My plan is to just remain calm this time, but if something drastic happens, I'll snap at that exact moment. Sorry, but that's just how the cookie crumbles. When it's done, I don't make a sound, but simply stand with the crowd of people. The escort, Genevieve Farnet, is probably the most screwed up one there is. She has fluffy, pink hair, and I swear to God that everything on her is pink and fluffy. (Can I just puke right here on the concrete?)

But everything changes when the idiot says, "Bloom Edwards." I just explode right there. Memories go through my head about my past, and I bet Kiran thinks I'm a hundred times worse than he ever could imagine. It wasn't like I was a good sis-forget it!

I shout as many obscenities as possible in a vent-fest about Panem. Some Peacekeepers run over to me, and I kick one of them in the shin. It doesn't work, though. He gets back up and tries to catch me. I use all the defense tactics I know, but suddenly, everything turns black before I can cuss at Panem again.

* * *

**District Nine: Ulysses POV**

When I finally make it to the reaping, all I can do is pant and wipe the sweat from my brow. It's been a long day in the fields. Even though it's Reaping Day, we still have to work. Wheat is crucial for life in District Nine, and I have to work at getting tons of it to keep bread on the table for each family. I know it's not enough (starvation is inevitable), but who am I to complain? It's what I've grown up with, and I could do worse.

I live with my grandmother and younger sister, Elise. She's five years old and so innocent. I wish I could go back to those good old days. Until I was about twelve years old, I had a caring set of parents. They were friendly and optimistic about pretty much everything under the sun, but things changed when Mother died during Elise's birth. There were some labor complications, and although her daughter made it, she didn't.

Before Mother's death, my father always smiled. It was extremely rare to ever see him frown. However, after the tragic event, he became pretty stern and serious. It was a pretty big change for me. Shortly after Elise's birth and my mother's death, he left us and gave us to our grandmother. Since Elise was too young to remember any of this, she's adjusted well to society. However, I have flashbacks of life with two parents pretty much every day.

The escort, Genevieve, enters the stage and plays the video. She looks like this ancient dog called a poodle, but I know it's rude to judge her for that. She grew up in the Capitol, and she learned their ways, just like I learned the ways of District Nine. That's my philosophy. She plays the video, and I think of the best case scenario when I'm forced to watch kids brutally murdering kids. (Ironic, isn't it?)

In my opinion, the best case scenario is that I don't get reaped, what with all the other slips of paper. I secretly got more tesserae, so my family doesn't starve, but you have to think of all the other teenagers doing that. When I start to worry just a little bit, I distract myself by touching my scar. For some odd reason, it keeps my mind off of things.

The scar runs from below my ear to my jawbone. No, it wasn't from any beatings. My father never laid a finger on me. (His coldness was expressed through verbal and emotional behavior.) It happened when I was eleven and was working in the fields. I used this extremely sharp knife to cut the wheat, but I wasn't completely serious with it. This kid named Ian and I were really bored, so we did a pretend sword-fight. He got out his knife, and he accidentally slashed the side of my face.

From then on, we had to do the work with less...advanced...technology. Ian and I don't really talk anymore, and I'm not sure if he even remembers the incident. I decide not to bring it up to him, because I don't want him to feel guilty and anxious.

When the video stops, I stop touching my scar and listen for the female tribute. I'm very calm right now, and I hope it remains this way.

Genevieve reads, "Bloom Edwards." Oh, great, not her! She's one of the most rebellious people in the district, and she'll fight you for no reason. Her parents were rebels and were executed by the government, and I bet she's traumatized by it. If anyone brought up her parents' deaths, they'd probably be killed. No joke. My point's shown even more when she starts her outburst; shouting all these frightening obscenities.

Wow, she's probably not under control. Bloom tries to fight the Peacekeepers and attack them, but she gets knocked out. There's a part of me that feels kind of bad for her, but I decide to ignore the whole situation. It isn't any of my business. Then, it's time for the male tribute to be reaped. I take one last breath before she says none other than my name.

This is the part where I'll have to hide every ounce of fear in my body from Panem and be strong for weeks. Although I'm shaking inside, I know I can't show that.

* * *

**District Ten: Callie POV**

I wipe some of the grass from my dark red hair that got on me last night. Apparently I was a "misbehaved girl", even though I just came home a little late from school. It wasn't my fault, since I accidentally knocked over a substance in science class and had to clean it up. Actually, it was kind of my fault, but did I really deserve to sleep outside with the cows again?

My mother has a horrible parenting technique, although I couldn't say that to her face. If I did, she'd probably give my dinner to Abby. She hasn't done that yet, but I'm dreading the inevitable day. By the way, Abby's my four-year-old sister. She's probably my favorite relative, but my dad's up there, too. I think you could guess who my least favorite is.

Basically, every time I misbehave, she makes me stay outside with the cows at night, no matter how hot or cold it is. Generally, it's the latter, so I'm convinced I'll freeze to death sometime soon. Although District Ten's located in the more southern part of Panem, the temperatures at night significantly drop. I'm becoming slightly immune to this punishment, since she's forced me to do it ever since I was Abby's age.

It's pretty humiliating when people notice grass or dirt on me. I'm afraid that they'll look down on me and call me names like "Dirt Girl" or other offensive terms explaining why I'm like that. I know it shouldn't be this way, but it hurts a lot, even the most mild terms. It's like I'm not worth anything, and it makes me feel humiliated and alone. I bet that's the way the tributes in the Hunger Games felt.

How could they not feel alienated when footage of them being attacked is shown all over the country? It makes me so sick every year when I see things like that happen. We're kind of forced to watch it, because if we don't watch the Hunger Games, we're pretty much disrespecting Panem. It's not like I have a lot of respect for my country and the government, but it's one of those things you can't talk about.

I've heard of the rebels who risked a lot to fight against the society here. Although I think it was a heroic thing to do, it wasn't very smart. The bulk of people who did that were executed in inhumane ways. There's stories about citizens who were hanged, shot, asphyxiated, and decapitated. That's only four out of hundreds of ways the government decided to punish them.

In a more general sense, simply being at the reaping is a punishment. You know there's a chance you'll be selected to go into the Hunger Games, and chances are, there's nothing you can do to stop it. I know that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. The only districts that always have volunteers are the Career ones. In that case, most of them volunteer because they want to go into the Games. That makes no sense in the slightest bit, but I do admire the people that volunteer to save a close friend or sibling.

To calm my extreme nerves, I wipe my sweat palms on my light gray dress that goes down to my knees. It was the first thing I could find in my closet that was presentable, so I decided to put it on and just brush my hair a bit. In case if you haven't noticed, my mother wouldn't do anything to help me out, so I'm stuck doing things on my own, even if the results aren't good. I guess my work was mediocre today, but you could do worse.

After the video is done, our escort, Visalia Glander, walks over to the female reaping bowl. She has very short brown hair, and it's even shorter than some of the boys' haircuts in District Ten. It's clipped very carefully, but it's kind of creepy looking. In fact, everything about Visalia bothers me. All she cares about is fame and looking pretty in front of a district that couldn't care less. (I know I'm a hypocrite, but I can't think straight right now.)

I'm shaking more than ever right now, and I start to bite my fingernails as she slowly reads the name. Every letter and sound is elongated, and I just want it to be over with. Except I can't since when I finally process the name, it happens to be Callie Crest. I act as calm and neutral as possible as I walk up to the stage, but all I want to do is cry from my internal anxiety attack.

* * *

**District Ten: Adrian POV**

"I'll see you soon. If I don't I will literally kill you in your sleep," my girlfriend Jeana tells me. Although we're dating, we totally contrast. I'm a pretty laid back guy and spend the bulk of my tine just chilling or sleeping, while Jeana's got the worst temper ever. If one thing sets her off, it's like a war zone. I think I balance out her strong personality while she adds some energy to my calm demeanor.

We do have an important thing in common, though-we're both Tamers. In Ten, the livestock can be really difficult at times, so the Tamers have to calm them down. I work with the horses, and I'm actually pretty good at it. They let me have a break, since I know what I'm doing and am responsible. Mostly, I just sleep with a bottle of alcohol near me. (I'm not like one of those drunks, but it tastes good.) On the other hand, Jeana works with the dogs. She's pretty good at her job, but she works every single day, except for Reaping Day.

"Well..." I mutter, "See ya." I really wish I could be asleep right now, and not at the reaping. It's my last year doing this, but it's time consuming. If I didn't go, though, I'd probably wreck the relationship between Pa and Mayor Haas. They've been on really close terms for decades, so we get a free ride with most things in the district, even though it's a poorer part of Panem. Ma's from a merchant family, so I have a good combination of background.

I slowly make my way to the clutter of guys waiting for the reaping to be over with. My brother Andre's talking with his best friend Xavier, but I don't interrupt them. They're not in a lot of classes this year, so they don't get to hang out as much as they did in the past. I have plenty of good friends, anyway. Amos and Garrett are fairly close to me right now, and Bailey and Haley are probably talking with Jeana.

"Hey! Adrian!" Garrett shouts.

"You awake?" Amos asks.

"Yeah...I wanna be asleep though." I respond. They chuckle, but they don't know how awesome sleep is. I swear those guys are night owls and spend the whole night just hanging out and goofing around. I try telling them how great it is, but they won't listen to a word I say.

I actually start to fall asleep, but I'm startled by the sound of Childress's booming and powerful voice.

"Rebellion. That one, significant, evil word formed Panem to what it is right now. Although this country cared for every single citizen, many were not grateful and decided to take matters into their own hands. Therefore, there were many consequences due to their transgression. The most relevant punishment was that each year, one male and female from each of the twelve, current districts would compete in the Hunger Games and fight to the death. Now, it is time for another dynamic competition, I bid you all goodbye." Typically, I'd be able to comprehend that, but right now, it's like I'm hearing him speak in a foreign language.

I space off during the female reaping, but I know a girl about Andre's age was reaped. I feel kinda bad for her, even though I have no idea who she is. No one deserves the horrible things Panem creates. However, I'm shocked when the male reaping begins. The escort, Visalia, pulls out a name and reads:

"Xavier Wozniak." That's Andre's best friend; the one he was talking to during the whole reaping. I'm half asleep, but there's something I can do to help out my brother and his friend.

"I volunteer!"

* * *

**Thank you, Amberleaf Lemonquill, DustyStroodle228, Breeze xxx, and MidnightRaven323! There's just one more reaping chapter to go, and since I don't have a lot of homework this weekend, Chapter 8 might be published very, very soon. I'm so excited for the Games to begin! By the way, when there's parenthesis in the story, it's the protagonist giving commentary. I'm not one of those authors who puts A/N's in the story, just before and after. **

**- Illuminated Blackness**


	8. Districts Eleven and Twelve Reapings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. If I did, Peeta would be dead, Prim and Finnick would be alive, and Katniss and Gale would be together. Sorry.**

* * *

**174th Hunger Games: By Illuminated Blackness**

* * *

**Districts Nine and Ten Reapings**

* * *

**District Eleven: Finch POV**

I put my hands over my ears and try to drain the sound of all the other people shouting and screaming. I close my eyes, and everything turns black. I love this place, where I feel like I won't be judged for all the weird things I do and can just think. A lot of the kids at school think I'm really odd and stupid, and it hurts a lot. I know I don't get as good of marks as they do, but I don't like to be reminded of it. They also think my behavior is odd.

You see, I love animals so much. They've been a part of me ever since I was born. I always see birds flying in the sky when I'm out in the orchards and other parts of Eleven. There's also foxes, and my favorites...dogs. They're the first thing I see when I close my eyes to go to sleep and the last thing I see before I wake up. I want to be any kind of animal, and I make it obvious. I go on all fours and smell people all the time, but they think it's creepy. I'm like a dog, myself, and it's so much fun. If only the others would understand it.

Besides being judged by my classmates, the only thing that holds me back is my family. There's my parents and my older sister Falcon. They want me to do my best and get so disappointed when I don't meet their expectations. Every time I come home with all "failures" on my report card or have to listen to them explain how a teacher told them about me acting like an animal in class, I feel like I'm letting them down and destroying them.

I start making dog noises, but I feel someone elbow my side. I jump, and I hear a giggle. I finally open my eyes to see multiple kids my age pointing and making fun of me. I think the person that elbowed me is Jayden Mortensen, this girl in my history class. She acts like she's a really nice person, but she makes fun of me when the teacher isn't around.

"Has Finch joined a flock yet? Or maybe a family of dogs?" this one kid named Marla teases. I try not to cry, but the only thing that calms me down is to bark some more.

"Hey," Jayden says, "What's the difference between Finch and a dog?"

Marla says, "There isn't one. She's about as dog-like as you can get."

Wrong, Jayden tells her, "A dog's about ten times smarter than Finch!" They both start to laugh, but another kid adds something.

"Just imagine Finch being reaped. She'd be even more stupid than she currently is." Finally, I decide to bite at the bullies, but they don't seem scared at all. They'd be scared of a mean dog, so shouldn't they be afraid of me?

"Hey, the moose lady's about to read the female name!" I now know the teasing happened when we were watching the video, because I always watch it when I hear it. I guess the mean kids were too loud. I'm more interested in the escort. I think her name's Zinnia, and she has antlers coming out of her head. It's so cool, and I want to be her. It's really creepy and unsettling, though.

I start to whimper from anxiety, but I only get another shove and giggle from Jayden and her friends. I wish I could have a lot of friends like her. I usually hang out with this girl named Cherie, but I don't know if she likes me or not. But she talks with me, and that's all that matters.

Then, Zinnia reads my name, Finch Jagter. I go into dog mode and try to run away. I make barking noises, and I can hear people laughing at me. I don't care, since the only thing I need is to get out. When some Peacekeepers try to catch me, all I do is growl at them. I'm going to fight back in any way possible, no matter what. It's too late, though, when things become black for a second time today.

* * *

**District Eleven: Dakota POV**

Let me just say that my life isn't easy. I'm the oldest of five boys; my siblings are Alex, Austin, Alan, and Edward. I guess my parents really liked vowels. Austin's a year younger than me, Alan's fourteen, Alex is thirteen, and Edward's seven. When I was ten years old, we lost one of the most important members of our family. My mother was giving birth to Edward, but she died from labor issues. We didn't really tell Edward the specific details, because we don't want to have him face the same depression the rest of us face every day.

That doesn't go without saying my brothers can be really annoying. I'm sorry, but they can do some of the most mischievous things that torture me. One time, Alex and Alan decided to go out into the fields and get some soil to throw on me when I was asleep. Now, I tend to stay up late, but when I'm asleep, nothing can wake me up. Therefore, my brothers had an advantage. When I woke up that morning, I was covered in dirt, and some was even in my ears. It took me a while to forgive them.

To make up with all the fights and issues with my siblings, my dad and I get along really well. There's multiple families that after the mom dies, the father becomes cold and abusive. Dad isn't like that at all, and even though he grieves about Mother, he tries to put on a happy face for us. He hasn't remarried, which I think is a good thing. Although we don't have a maternal figure in the family anymore, no one could replace Mom, even if they tried.

We have two cats named Baby and Buddy. They're both kittens, and we got them a few months ago. I was in the fields getting some corn, and I saw two small kittens walking through there. At first, I thought it was pretty funny, but I realized they probably didn't have a home. I wouldn't want to be like that, so I took them to our house and asked Dad if we could adopt them. After a long discussion of the pros and cons, we were officially the owners of the adorable Baby and Buddy. Baby's a tabby, and Buddy's mostly black with some white spots. I think the contrast is really interesting.

Thinking about positive things helps me when I'm nervous or worried. Even though I've been at the reaping six times, including now, I'm really concerned about my brothers. The only one who won't possibly be reaped is Edward, but he'll have to do it in five years. That goes by quicker than you'd expect, believe me. I start to think about petting my cats and fun memories with my family, but my mind always goes back to the Hunger Games.

The government's a very selfish bunch of people who only care about themselves and the rich. The rest of us are meaningless. I'm trying to grow used to it, but it's hard not to mentally vent about our horrible dictator, Childress. He's such a liar, and he tries to make Panem seem like the most amazing utopia ever. Actually, it's more like a _dystopia_, but you can't say that here. If you do, you'll be killed. However, he's totally lying through his teeth when he recites that monologue in the annual video.

"Rebellion. That one, significant, evil word formed Panem to what it is right now. Although this country cared for every single citizen, many were not grateful and decided to take matters into their own hands. Therefore, there were many consequences due to their transgression. The most relevant punishment was that each year, one male and female from each of the twelve, current districts would compete in the Hunger Games and fight to the death. Now, it is time for another dynamic competition, I bid you all goodbye."

Then, the reaping starts. I really don't want to talk about the female who was reaped, but I'm going to say that she was very insane and will probably be killed. I feel bad for the male tribute, having to be her district partner. I think her name is Finch, and I remember that I've heard people spread rumors about her and bully her. Maybe she can't help the way she acts. I hope not.

The escort, Zinnia, announces that she's about to reap the male tribute. She's kind of weird, what with antlers growing out of her head. There's a lot of messed up creatures in Panem, and I'm not sure if this escort is entirely human. Maybe the Capitol genetically modified her or something. I'm glad I don't live there, since I know how odd life is in the Capitol. As she reads the name, I start to lose attention from her antlers, and pay more attention to the name being read.

"Alex Martin." No, I will not let my brother go into the Hunger Games. No matter how annoying he can be, he doesn't deserve the horrible fate that goes with competing. I'm not going to stand by and let this happen.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout as loudly as possible.

* * *

**District Twelve: Camille POV**

The Hunger Games is a pretty controversial topic in our area of District Twelve. It used to be called "The Seam" about a hundred years ago, but now we just call it the border. There's nothing really special about it, except for the fact that beyond it, there's no Panem. I wish I could live out in the woods and wouldn't have to worry about anything in my country. I'm not particularly patriotic, and I think I have a good reason.

My sister, Ellowyn, competed in the Hunger Games two years ago. As expected from a weaker district, she died in the bloodbath. It pretty much tore apart our family, and no one's the same anymore. I don't really see my parents much these days. Dad's working in the mines, and Mom just spaces off and grieves about Ellowyn. The only person I can really talk to is my other sister, Marietta.

She's eighteen years old, so it's the last time she has to put her name in the reaping. Unfortunately, the people who need more tesserae have to put their name in more times, which I don't think is fair. They're helping their family, and they don't deserve to be oppressed about it. On the other hand, the districts in Panem are pretty idiotic. All they do is subject themselves to President Childress and get tortured even more. I'm not going to take that crap, but I remain mum, though. However, in the very inner depths of my mind, I have a plan brewing.

Around a century ago, there was an accident in the mines. Most of us think the workers were secretly starting an uprising. However, none of the survivors are alive anymore, and their relatives either won't talk about it or don't know anything about their plans. One of the men who died had a famous elder daughter, Katniss Everdeen. She's known as being the first volunteer in District Twelve. Although she died in the Games, I look up to her bravery and selflessness.

Her younger sister, Primrose, was originally reaped, but Katniss was quick to volunteer. Primrose lived to be in her nineties, and I actually met her once. I was approximately five years old and had to deliver some soup to people around the border. I went to multiple houses, and I noticed that "Primrose Hawkins" was on the list. I remember delivering pea soup to her, but I didn't realize who she was. That happened during history class years later.

Right now, I'm looking down and trying not to cry. A wave of sadness hits me, because I'm dreading the deaths of the two poor, innocent tributes about to be reaped today. It doesn't particularly help when the video plays; showing all those graphic scenes of tributes dying. I'm especially scared for Marietta, since I don't have enough digits to count the amount of times she was forced to put her name into the reaping. If she gets reaped, Mother will be more empty than ever. I might become that way, too.

Childress's speech about how "great" Panem is doesn't help, but we all have to listen to him say, "Rebellion. That one, significant, evil word formed Panem to what it is right now. Although this country cared for every single citizen, many were not grateful and decided to take matters into their own hands. Therefore, there were many consequences due to their transgression. The most relevant punishment was that each year, one male and female from each of the twelve, current districts would compete in the Hunger Games and fight to the death. Now, it is time for another dynamic competition, I bid you all goodbye."

He acts like the Hunger Games is no big deal, but it is to the people who are greatly affected by it. For example...the majority of Panem. If a) I had enough guts and b) I met Childress for some reason, then I'd throw some coal in his face. What he did caused my sister to be brutally stabbed to death and tore apart my family. To make matters worse, the annoying escort, Margaux Westbrook, has to start the reaping. I try not to show it, but every time she talks, I think my ears are going to bleed.

"Ladies go first," she announces, "The female tribute is...Camille Asters!" Oh, no. How many times was my name in the reaping? I don't know, but I didn't think I had that high of a chance. I try as hard as I can to bravely walk onto the stage, but tears pour out of my eyes before I'm halfway there.

* * *

**District Twelve: Ringo POV**

Fire is just plain evil. I can't describe it in any other way, but I know there's nothing positive about it. There are those simpletons that think playing with fire is a fun thing to do, but they probably don't have anything else to do in their free time. I beg to differ, and if someone says they love it, I'd like to punch them. I'm too nice for that, though. You see, fire is a murderer.

When I was ten years old, I decided to accompany my mother to the apothecary shop. We're in the center of Twelve, so we can get to places fairly quickly. My father was ill, so we wanted to help him as soon as possible. When we finally returned, our house was on fire. I'm not joking; our entire house was engulfed in flames. We tried to get help, but it was too late. The only thing left of my father and brothers was ashes.

I had two brothers, Brannon and Lansten. They were both older than me, and I looked up to them. I wanted to emulate practically every move they made, even the not-so-good ones. Now, I can't do that anymore. I miss them and my father every single day, but fortunately, Mother and I get along well. I don't know what would happen if we didn't. My prediction is that I'd leave and find a way to live on my own.

In case if you were wondering, our house was rebuilt, although it's not as aesthetically pleasing as it used to be. We don't really care, though. We have a home, and we should be grateful for that. I can't stand the people in the Career districts who think they have a "horrible life" just because the sweets shop closed, or the fact that their house isn't big enough. I plan to never end up like that. However, we're pretty poor. We barely have any money, and a lot of it was destroyed by the fire.

It was a challenge for me to get into school. We just couldn't afford the cost, but the education department was understanding of our situation and reduced the price. However, I don't get as many features as the other students do. I can't buy my lunch, and I don't have textbooks. Instead, I have to look over a classmate's shoulder just to read one...which tends to annoy them.

This fire scene perturbs me the most in the Hunger Games video. It's mostly because of my traumatic past, but it's also the fact that someone would do that to another person. Let me explain a little bit more.

_A teenaged girl sits down in a supposedly isolated area of the arena. The arena consists of all these placid fields, but there are some parts that just have dirt. It's considered to be one of the most difficult Hunger Games, because of the setting. The girl takes her backpack off and gets some strawberries out. She eats them and becomes very tired. The girl falls asleep, and the Careers find her. The boy from District One has a homemade match and puts it on the tribute's body. Some of the other Careers add more sticks with fire, and the girl burns to death. No one knows if she woke up, but being burned alive is one of the most painful ways to die. _

Usually, I close my eyes during this part. It's too painful to watch, but I always accidentally open them before it's over. I guess I need a better sense of time. After being forced to watch more graphic scenes like this, Margaux Westbrook stops the video and selects the female tribute. It turns out to be Camille Asters, the sister of Ellowyn. Ellowyn competed in the Games two years ago, but she was killed in the bloodbath. Fortunately, they didn't show her death in the video. The male tribute reaped is named Harold Spitler. He looks like a first year here, and I feel scared for him. It wasn't his fault he was selected for the inhumane Games.

Along with remorse, I want Mother to have a more fortunate life. If I do what I'm about to do, then it might happen...if I win. There's chance, so I shout:

"I volunteer!"

I walk up to the stage confidently, although I'm pretty nervous inside. I know there is no turning back, no matter what. I'm going to be in the Hunger Games; there's no doubt about that.

* * *

**Okay, I just love these characters! I'm going to give a special thanks to Vulkodlak, Dracorex16, twiheart2thebone, and Rippo100 for submitting this set of tributes. I edited the previous chapters and omitted any f-bombs. I wrote them in for characterization, but I didn't realize it might make you guys uncomfortable. Sorry about that. Just to let you know, the next chapter is going to be the train ride. I have a vague plan of how the story will go, but it's not fully executed. **

**- Illuminated Blackness**


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